Page 35 of Maverick (The Bull Riders #3)

“You’re so brash. So brave in every part of your life but this one.

It’s one thing for me to acknowledge her.

That you might not be able to love again because of her, but if you’re going to try to tell me that it’s because you can’t do the work?

Fuck you. I’m worth that. You’re worth it.

Why are you so much happier being unhappy? ”

I see the anger in him boil over then. I tapped into something personal.

Something deep. Good. I want him to be angry.

I don’t want him to be comfortable. I want this to suck.

I want it to be brutal. Because if he’s going to flay me alive like this, then he had better get wounded right along with me.

“That’s what everyone seems to think about me. But I just love to be miserable.”

“It seems like it. And I don’t know about you, but if I were to really think about why, I’d be tempted to believe it’s because you’re afraid.

And I don’t blame you for that. I don’t think life has been kind to you.

And the one time you got something that made you happy, you lost it.

Maybe somewhere along the line, you would’ve figured yourself out.

I think you would have. I think you would’ve done what you needed to do to keep your marriage together, but you’re so much more comfortable with the narrative that you wouldn’t have, aren’t you?

But you can’t. Because it keeps you safe now.

Because you took a step outside of yourself once, and life brutally punished you for it.

I’m not saying that’s easy. And I’m not even saying that I know what I would do in that situation, Maverick, because I don’t.

I’ve never been in love before you.” My voice breaks.

“I’m so painfully aware of it. That there is so much life that you’ve lived that I haven’t.

We do have things in common. Little glimmers and bits and pieces that are like fractured mirror images of each other, but the bottom line is, I always had food, shelter, safety.

You rarely had those things. And then you had a whole marriage.

You had to grieve somebody that you loved, and I would never, ever say that I know what it might cost you to hope again, but a championship isn’t going to fix you.

Nothing is going to fix you. Nothing except for you. ”

I don’t know what I expected him to do. Explode maybe. Yell and scream and get angry. He doesn’t. He takes a step toward me, his eyes reflecting an eerie calm that I frankly find more disturbing than screaming.

“You’re a child to me, Stella. I knew I should never have touched you for this reason.

But I did it anyway. Stop trying to make me a hero.

I’m the bad guy. I wanted to fuck you, and I did.

It’s all I want from you. It’s all I ever wanted from you.

You turned it into something more in your head, and now you think you made me happy, when all you did was make me satisfied.

It wasn’t my goal to hurt you, but if you’re going to act like a na?ve virgin, then that’s what you’re going to get. Hurt.”

I’m actually so aware in the moment that what he is doing is protecting himself, but it doesn’t do anything to mitigate the pain that I feel when he says that to me.

“You were just a quick fuck to me, do you understand that?”

His words hurt, and they are designed to.

Because I’m not, and I know it. But he’s going to keep doing that to push me away.

Because, for whatever reason, this is what makes him feel safe.

And it makes me feel like I’ve been skinned alive.

I hate him right now. As much as I love him.

And I wish that hate could push the love out of my system, but unfortunately, it’s just sitting right there next to it. So uncomfortable. So… Awful.

“You’re going to have to find somebody else to ride Frank,” I say, those words tearing me up. Because leaving Frank is going to hurt almost as bad as it hurts to leave him.

“You can have him,” Maverick says.

“What the fuck?”

“I don’t need the reminders. And actually, thank you.

Thank you so much for reminding me of exactly who I am.

What I am. I’m better off by myself. I’m going to go and win this fucking championship, and that’s all that matters.

It’s all that’s ever mattered to me, everything else was just a side quest.”

“And what happens after?”

That’s what I see fear flare in his eyes. I know this scares him. I know he doesn’t want to think about it. That’s why I asked.

“None of your concern.”

I can’t reconcile this. This man is not the same man that I’ve been sleeping with for the past two months, except it is.

This is that feral, wounded part of him that he hasn’t figured out what to do with.

That he can’t figure out how to heal. And maybe he doesn’t want to.

Maybe he doesn’t want to because healing is work.

Because healing means you might get hurt all over again.

“I can fit two horses in my trailer,” I say. “I’m going to load up right now.”

I’m driving back to Sonoma. I am getting the hell out of here. Because why should I fix this man? I love him. But I need him to do some of the work. Because I’ve spent the last couple of months figuring myself out. I can’t do it all for him.

I’m not going to stand here and let him stab me repeatedly. Because I don’t deserve that. I consider leaving Frank. But I don’t. He said I could take him, and I will.

But I have to take my whole broken self back to my parents’ place, and I’m not thrilled about that.

I was always going to go back, but I would’ve preferred not to go back like this.

Oh well. It’s a lesson for me on middle grounds.

Because I’m not going back with my tail between my legs, not really.

I have a horse for dressage, I have a championship in barrel racing.

Maybe not this year, but I’ve had one. I had a relationship, even if it didn’t last.

Complexity. He and I talked about that. About how people are complicated. And life is complicated.

That is so much easier for me to hang onto when the complication isn’t being aimed at me.

It takes me two days to drive back to Sonoma, and I cry the whole way.

I listen to Taylor Swift because there’s nothing better in a crisis.

And really, I should go straight to my own house, but instead, I drive to my parents’.

Maybe because I want to show them Frank.

Because I want to have some kind of win.

Even if it’s related to something I shouldn’t care this much about.

And when I pull up to the barn, it’s midday, and Harmony is standing out front wearing perfectly fitted breeches and the jacket, a black velvet helmet on her head.

I pull my truck up, and I feel unbearably out of step with my sister.

Right then, I wonder if I’m too much of a hybrid to be anything.

Too Western for this, too dressage for the rodeo.

And here I am with both of my horses. And all of my heartbreak.

I see the ring on her finger, and my heart squeezes just a little bit.

I wish that could’ve been me. But it can’t be.

Because I fell in love with a man who’s just like me.

Too gorgeous not to be loved, and too feral to allow someone to love him.

Middle ground that just doesn’t work.

Too much of one thing, not enough of another.

He is my soulmate in all the worst ways.

But if we could just find a way to fit…

He doesn’t want to.

That’s the hardest part. Well, that and me understanding it. Even while it hurts.

After all, I’ve spent my life doing very similar things. Ducking and running from everything I’ve ever tried when I was afraid I might not be able to be the best.

Blowing it all up when things felt too complicated. I take a deep breath, and throw my truck into Park. Then I get out.

“Hey. Congrats on the engagement.”

She frowns. “What are you doing here?”

“I…have… a horse. I’m probably going to start showing again next season.”

She lifts a pale brow. “You are?”

“Yeah. I… I was just thinking I might take a break from the rodeo. Well, partly because I chanced across this horse and…” I don’t want to cry in front of my sister.

She has everything together. She has everything that I could have ever wanted.

Including my parents’ unwavering support.

And a fiancé that loves her, instead of a man who gave her a horse and told her to get lost.

I feel my eyes welling up with tears anyway.

“It’s just a long story.”

Harmony looks concerned, though doesn’t run to me, doesn’t pull me into her arms or anything, and that’s fair, we don’t really have that kind of relationship.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

Harmony frowns. “Is it a man?”

“Why does it have to be a man? It could be a horse. Or the fact that I bombed out of the rodeo this year.”

“But you were staying with a man while you did this horse thing, if I was reading between the lines correctly.”

I sighed. “Yes.” A tear slips down my cheek. “And yes, it is a man.”

“You know, I always admired you, Stella.”

I’m completely dumbfounded by this statement. “You admired me?”

“Yes. I admire you because you’ve always known who you were.

” You never let mom and dad push you into anything that you didn’t want to do.

All I’ve ever known how to do is follow the steps that they gave me.

Which sometimes feels stupid. Limited. I’m really good at this choreographed dance that somebody else gave me.

You were always out there making your own steps. ”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve always felt like an imposter next to you. Somebody who can only do half of what you do.”